


Birthday Pizza

by MaddieStilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baking, Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Cute, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Pizza, baking!Derek, reference to thumbhole sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieStilinski/pseuds/MaddieStilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I’m gonna eat this,’ he says, pointing at the pizza. ‘Then you’re gonna tell me all about that green cake mix in your hair.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a Tumblr prompt that I thought I'd pop on here because I haven't posted in a while. 
> 
> It's basically just fluff- a nice change from my usual stuff :D
> 
> Anyway, if you like it let me know in the comments, and as always, ENJOY!!!

Baking, it turns out, is a lot harder than it looks.

Derek glances down at the recipe, then back in his bowl, then back at the recipe, winces at the murky beige mixture in front of him.

Dubiously, he prods it with his spoon, groans out loud when it pretty much cements in place.

 

‘What the hell is that?’ Isaac asks, poking his head over Derek’s shoulder, resting his chin in the crook of his neck.

‘It’s Stiles’ birthday cake,’ Derek scowls, dropping the spoon completely. It sends plumes of flour into the air from the edge of the bowl and Isaac wafts it away with his hand, not noticing the white settled in his hair.

‘Are you trying to break up with him?’ he grimaces, dipping his finger into it. ‘It looks gross.’

‘Shut up, Isaac. You burnt pop tarts the other day,’ Derek growls, dropping vanilla into the mixture despite himself.

‘Yeah, but I’m useless at cooking,’ Isaac grins, jumping up on the counter. ‘ _You’re_ supposed to be good at it.’

 

Derek turns, gives him a flat look that he hopes is more menacing than noncommittal, flicks the spoon at him.

‘Fine,’ he says, folding the mixture into a baking tin. ‘See how often I make you breakfast from now on.’

Isaac gasps, clutches his chest. ‘Heaven forbid I make my own breakfast!’

Derek throws flour at his face.

 

‘Oh come on, you know I’m right,’ Isaac says, shaking white from his hair. ‘Just start again.’

‘Not a chance,’ Derek says grumpily, continually stirring the mixture. ‘It’s fine.’

‘If by fine you mean shit,’ Isaac snorts, scrunching his face up. ‘Why don’t you just get one from the bakery?’

Derek’s frown deepens, if possible, even more, teeth clenched in exasperation.

‘ _Because_ ,’ he says quietly. ‘I want to surprise him. Do something nice. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.’

‘First of all, how dare you,’ Isaac says, appalled. ‘Second of all, I’m always nice.’

Derek snorts. ‘Name one nice thing you’ve done in the last week.’

‘I stopped you making your boyfriend a shitty ass cake.’

 

Isaac’s banned from the kitchen for at least fifteen minutes.

 

*

 

‘Okay, that’s definitely not right.’

Isaac winces down at the cake, bites his bottom lip to stop himself laughing.

‘It’s… it’s not _that_ bad,’ Derek says tentatively, tilting his head to get a different view. He reaches out and prods a particularly cracked bit, which crumples of in a huge chunk, breaking into three as it hits the floor.

Isaac snorts at the stricken look on Derek’s face. ‘Dude, it’s pretty bad.’

‘Maybe it just needs longer in the oven,’ Derek suggests, glaring at it. ‘It still looks kind of pale.’

Isaac laughs, pokes the sunken middle with his finger. ‘I’m not sure that’ll help.’

‘What do you know,’ Derek huffs, swatting his hand away. ‘You don’t even come in here when I’m making something good.’

‘I make a point of never coming in the kitchen, Derek,’ Isaac says, winking. ‘It’s disgusting.’

‘And you’re a pain in the ass,’ Derek replies, shoving him off the side, sending him skidding across the floor on his heels. ‘Now move, I’m gonna put this back in the oven.’

‘I really don’t think you should-‘

 

Isaac starts talking, but Derek ignores him, opens the oven and pushes the cake carefully back inside. ‘My house, my rules,’ he shrugs, throwing the oven mitt onto the table.

Isaac rolls his eyes. ‘It’s gonna burn.’

Derek sighs, folds his arms and strides firmly from the room. ‘No. It won’t.’

‘Yes, it will,’ Isaac says, following him over to the couch. He flops down next to him, drapes his legs over Derek’s lap.

 

‘Honestly,’ he says, ignoring the murderous look on Derek’s face, ‘for someone so smart, you can be a real dumbass.’

‘At least I try,’ Derek counters, browsing through netflix. ‘What’s the last thing you made, huh? And pop tarts don’t count,’ he adds before Isaac can say anything.

‘Alright princess,’ Isaac says, rolling his eyes. ‘Don’t get your panties in a twist, I was just _saying_ -‘

‘Well don’t.’

 

Derek’s scowl deepens as he puts a random film on, determinedly watches the screen. Isaac shuffles a little, gets comfier on the couch, lets the silence settle a bit before he says, ‘You know I’m right. That cake’s awful.’

‘What’s awful is your attitude,’ Derek mutters, pushing his legs off his lap. ‘You’ve done nothing but bitch since you got home.’

‘Hey, if you wanted babying, you should have asked Scott to move in with you.’

Derek huffs out a humourless laugh, raises his eyebrows. ‘Scott would just be happy I’m making cake.’

‘Well maybe I have higher standards than Scott,’ Isaac says, hugging a pillow to his chest. ‘At least I don’t patronise you.’

Derek rolls his eyes. ‘No, you just piss me off instead.’

‘Alright smartass,’ Isaac scowls, throwing the pillow at Derek, ‘let’s bet on it. Ten bucks on that cake burning in the next five minutes.’

He holds his hand out, holds Derek’s gaze confidently, lips quirked up in the corner. Derek leans forward and shakes his hand, smirks at him.

‘Deal.’

 

*

 

‘I hate to say I told you so,’ Isaac says twenty minutes later, teeth chattering in the light rain settling on them, ‘but I definitely told you so.’

‘Shut up,’ Derek whines, glancing nervously around him. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’

‘Really?’ Isaac says, incredulously, arms folded tight across his chest. ‘Because from what I remember, it’s pretty much entirely your fault.’

 

He hops on the balls of his feet, glares murderously at the few stragglers _finally_ making their way outside.

‘And in case you forgot, you owe me ten bucks.’

Derek gingerly a bill out of his back pocket, places it grimly in Isaac’s waiting palm.

 

‘Fine,’ he says gruffly as the building’s cleared for re-entry, ‘I admit it. I can’t bake.’

‘All I wanted to hear,’ Isaac replies, shouldering his way back into the apartment. Derek bites his lip, waits until he’s sure Isaac’s going back to his room before he finally sighs, makes his way towards the kitchen.

‘You’re not seriously going to try that again, are you?’ Isaac asks just before he gets to his door. ‘I mean, I get that you’re trying to be romantic, but I’d quite like to still have a house by the end of the day, you know?’

‘It’ll be fine if you just leave me to get on with it,’ Derek grumbles, glaring at him.

Isaac laughs, saunters into the kitchen after him. ‘No can do, compadre,’ he says, jumping back up on the side. ‘I’m keeping a close eye on you. You’re not the only one that cares about Stiles. I want to make sure he gets the cake he deserves.’

Derek takes a deep breath, grabs a clean bowl from the cupboard. ‘I’m doing my best, Isaac.’

‘I know,’ he replies, almost comfortingly, ‘but you gotta try a bit harder to make it edible. Cake is usually best when eaten.’

Derek pushes him off the side.

Isaac complains about bruising for at least ten minutes after.

 

*

 

‘Why the _fuck_ is it green?’

They both stare, horrified, at the contents of the bowl, Derek’s heart beating a thousand times a minute.

Isaac grimaces, bites his bottom lip. ‘Dude.’

Derek frowns, turns the bowl around, hoping the lighting makes it less obvious. It doesn’t.

 

‘I thought I told you to add vanilla,’ he says, glancing at Isaac out the corner of his eye.

‘Yeah…’ Isaac says slowly. ‘Yeah, you did.’

Derek raises his eyebrows. ‘Wanna explain why it’s green then?’

Isaac glances nervously around the kitchen, then down at the bottle in his hands, curls a fist around it carefully, hiding the label from Derek.

‘Isaac,’ Derek growls, taking a step forward. ‘What. Happened?’

‘I panicked, okay!’ he blurts out, lobbing the bottle as far away as possible. ‘I just grabbed the first thing I saw.’

Derek groans, pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Well how are we supposed to fix it? Stiles is coming in less than an hour.’

Isaac hums under his breath, taps his finger against the counter.

‘I know!’ he says finally, eyes wild and a little manic. ‘We can just add more flour. That’s white. It’ll change it back!’

‘Isaac, I’m not sure…’

 

Derek starts to talk, but his words are lost in a blur of limbs. Before he can do anything about it, Isaac launches himself forward, grabbing the bag of flour as he goes, tipping half the contents into the bowl, stirring it furiously.

He keeps stirring until the mixture turns a murky grey colour, clumps of uncombined flour popping up every now and then. It’s a disaster.

‘Why isn’t it working?’ Isaac cries, his stirring getting more erratic by the second. ‘It’s supposed to work!’

‘Isaac, maybe you should calm down,’ Derek says, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Gimme the bowl.’

Isaac shakes his head, reaches for the bag again. ‘I’ll just add more. That’ll-‘

‘Completely ruin it,’ Derek interrupts, pulling the bag back from him. ‘It’s fine as it is.’

‘No it’s not,’ Isaac whines, tugging the bag back just as hard. ‘It’s awful.’

Derek closes his eyes, tugs the flour back in his direction. ‘Isaac, let go.’

‘You let go.’

 

He hears the bag rip before he has time to prepare himself for the cloud of white that follows. Spluttering, he stumbles blindly around, feeling his way around the counter. His foot hits something hard, and he doubles over, grinds his teeth in pain.

‘Shit!’

All at once, something hits Derek full in the face, followed closely by the sound of smashing glass.

The flour settles around them, revealing a shocked looking Isaac, a broken bowl, and green cake mixture splattered over every thing, including Derek’s face.

Isaac’s eyes double in size as he looks takes in what happened, hands flying to his mouth as Derek straightens up, showing the extent of the damage.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Isaac splutters through his hands. ‘I don’t know what happened.’

 

Blinking hard, Derek uses a dish cloth of wipe most of the mixture off his face, glances, defeated around the kitchen.

‘It’s not your fault,’ he says sullenly. ‘This was pretty much doomed to fail from the get go.’

‘What’re you gonna do about Stiles?’ Isaac asks quietly, wiping green off his own cheek.

Derek shrugs, throws the cloth in the sink. ‘I don’t know. Nothing’s open at this time of night is it?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Isaac starts, face set in concentration. ‘Unless…’

‘Unless?’

 

Isaac hums, searches in a drawer for something, throwing handfuls of paper onto the floor. ‘Is Erica still at work?’

Derek blinks. ‘Yeah. Why?’

‘Because she’s going to save us, okay.’

‘Isaac, she works in a restaurant, not a bakery.’

Derek huffs, moves to lean against the counter. Isaac finally pulls out a piece of paper triumphantly, completely undeterred by Derek’s bad mood.

‘I know,’ he says, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. ‘But they do these awesome pizzas there. Stiles loves pizza right?’

‘Yeah,’ Derek says slowly, then catches on. ‘Yeah, he does!’

Isaac grins, puts the phone on loudspeaker.

 

They stand in silence for a few seconds before Derek hears her answer. ‘ _Isaac, I’m at work_.’

‘I know,’ he says, hurriedly. ‘But this is an emergency.’

‘ _What is it?_ ’ she asks. ‘ _Did Derek get his thumb stuck in one of those ridiculous sweaters again._ ’

‘No!’ Derek says defensively, glaring at the phone. ‘And I did not get stuck-‘

‘Not the issue here, thumbsy,’ Isaac says exasperatedly, throwing Derek a flat look. ‘Erica, do you still sell those kick ass pizzas?’

‘ _Yeah of course. Why?'_

Isaac grins, ‘Because it’s Stiles’ birthday and Derek can’t bake.’

There’s a beat of silence, then she replies, ‘ _Of course he can’t_.’

‘So you’ll help us out?’ Isaac asks hopefully. Erica sighs.

‘ _Only if you ask very very nicely_.’

Isaac grins. ‘You’re the best, Erica.’

‘ _Yeah, yeah_ ,’ she grumbles, rustling something on paper int he background. ‘ _But next movie night I’m choosing what we watch. I’m sick of fucking superhero films_.’

‘Done,’ Derek says, ‘Thanks, Erica.’

‘ _No worries, Der-bear. Anything to help you get laid_.’

 

With that, she disconnects, leaving Derek to splutter mindlessly at the phone. Isaac just laughs until the delivery guy arrives.

 

*

 

‘Derek?’ Stiles slips into the apartment, drops his bag by the front door.

‘In here,’ Derek calls, waiting until Stiles gets into he room before pulling him into a fierce kiss; one that sends them stumbling into the wall, hands fumbling with excess layers of clothing.

Stiles moans, presses back until he can break away, blinks rapidly for a few seconds. ‘Jesus, Derek, what was that for?’

‘I missed you,’ Derek replies, burying his face into Stiles’ neck. ‘Happy Birthday.’

‘Missed you too,’ Stiles mumbles, tilting his head back as Derek peppers kisses across his collar bone.

 

They stay like that for a few seconds before his eyes fall onto the table, at the decorations scattered across it. ‘What’s that?’ he asks, nodding. ‘Is it for me?’

‘Hmm,’ Derek says, resting his forehead against Stiles’. ‘Wanted to surprise you.’

‘So you got me a birthday pizza?’

Derek pulls away, stares into his eyes. ‘Is that a problem?’

Stiles laughs, kisses him once, softly, then murmurs, ‘It’s perfect.’

 

He ducks out from under Derek’s arm, moves over to the table. He stares at the pizza, which Erica, annoyingly, made into a heart shape, spelling ‘Happy Birthday, Stiles,’ with various vegetables. Even if it is overkill, Derek has to admit it smells pretty good.

‘Let me get a picture of this,’ Stiles says, getting his phone out. He takes a couple of shots from different angles, then settles down in his favourite chair, beckons for Derek to join him.

‘This is really sweet of you, Derek.’

‘It’s nothing.’

Stiles smiles. ‘Thanks anyway.’

 

Derek kisses his cheek, takes the chair next to him, starts cutting up the pizza into manageable chunks. It’s only after he’s finished and sat down again that Stiles says anything else.

‘I’m gonna eat this,’ he says, pointing at the pizza. ‘Then you’re gonna tell me all about that green cake mix in your hair.’

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumble me](http://sourwolfsam.tumblr.com)


End file.
